Paris when It Defies the Death of Love
by Modern Day Princess
Summary: " He could hardly remember; he only remembered the ground crumbling beneath his feet and the image of her face. Porcelain skin, hazel eyes.  Sinking into an empty abyss". Chair. AU. Pre-season 4.


**A/N: **Even after everything, I still think that Chair is epic ! A sad but hopeful one-shot. Reviews are appreciated!

**Paris When It Defies the Death of Love**

In a way she was like her beloved actress. She had a unique personal style; her beauty was classic, refined. She watched _Roman Holiday_, _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, _Sabrina_ and _Love in the Afternoon_ many, many times. She could recite every scene, every line. Audrey Hepburn was like a dear friend to her. Her undeniable grace astonished and inspired her young, sensitive heart. Although she knew deep down inside that she could never match her natural charm, she did her best to emulate it. She wore stylish satin dresses, bright ribbons, matching headbands and carried herself with elegance.

She was Blair Waldorf, a modern day duchess of the Upper East Side. She read classic novels, appreciated Impressionist art and aimed to be a woman of power. She was different from anyone else and she knew it.

* * *

He was lost and fatigued from his travel. Sitting in a crowded and noisy airport, he tried to remember why he had come to Paris. His mind told him he wanted entertainment, but his heart contradicted this deceitful thought. He knew deep down inside that he was hurt, heartbroken and in desperate need of escape. He was always an eager traveler, constantly changing his habitats in search for something to excite his exhausted spirit, hungry for puzzling maneuvers of life. Paris was just another destination, another attempt to witness life through a different eye, another journey to moral victory that he subconsciously tried to pursue. He wanted to find himself and find his way back to _her._ His spirit was like a turbulent wave stirring in a broad sea. Haphazard airports had an interesting effect on him. He liked to observe his fellow passengers, anxious and hasty, tired of commute. It provided him with a soothing relief from his own hectic life.

* * *

She finished reading the _House of Mirth_ and drew a long breath. Scrunching up her pretty porcelain face, she reached out her hand and plopped another macaroon into her mouth. She was sitting at a nearly empty cafe , murmuring orders in her immaculate French every now and again. Paris was her dream city, a reflection of her delicate interior world. She chose to visit it this particular summer in the hope of mending her heart. Two hours passed and she mentally prided herself for failing to think about him. She just needed the strength to continue her course. The truth of the matter was that she wasn't Princess Ann or Holly Golightly; she was a mere woman and she was in love. Her love was the kind that kindles the heart and keeps it glowing, the kind that consumes the whole being. She fell victim to everlasting love. _Sometimes it just doesn't work out_, she told herself, closing her romantic novel. The end can be bleak and unhappy; she could lose everything like Lily Bart. The thought made her shiver, feel cold. She pressed the soft fabric of her light blue cardigan closer to her bare skin.

"Another cocktail, mademoiselle?" the male waiter inquired again with a heavy French accent.

His coarse voice brought Blair back to reality.

"No, merci, that would be all", she dismissed his imposing gallantry. She rose to her feet, slipping him a tip, and hurried to her motel room. Serena would be there with another light-hearted story of her current conquest. She often envied the blonde's zest for life, nonchalance of character .She always knew fortitude was her strength, yet this time she couldn't overpower her sadness, her pain.

* * *

_.Blair__. Blair. _ He had struggled in vain; he couldn't get her out of his mind. Her name was imprinted in his thoughts, his heart. She was far away from him now, yet he felt her lingering presence. Her celestial face appeared before him every time he closed his eyes. He missed her dearly, unbearably.

It was time for his flight. He moved through the dense crowd, blocking meaningless chatter, gossip. Yet when he heard someone mention _her _name, he listened intently, alertly.

_Blair Waldorf ran away from Upper east Side for the summer ! _

_Did she bring her minions?_

_Does she want to land a prince?_

_Is it all over between her and Chuck?_

A group of young teenage girls engaged in eager discussion of Manhattan's duchess. It was true that flawless Blair always inspired rumours and gossip, fuelling the mundane flow of life. Every girl secretly wanted to be _her,_ be a part of her circle. Chuck always admired the effect Blair had; it set her apart, made her special to him.

Yet, hearing her name when he tried so hard to forget her, reminded him how inherently human and fragile his feelings were. He was a mere man in love. When he got on the plane, he tried harder to disregard what he had just heard.

* * *

_The turbulence unnerved, frightened him. He was drowning in the array of petrified voices. Before the darkness settled in, he had a vision. A glimpse of all that he was._

* * *

" Tell me about Jacque...did he fall a victim to Serena van der Woodsen?" Blair asked , a hint of urgency in her voice.

When Serena didn't provide her with an immediate and eager response, Blair looked at her friend intently. The blonde had a puzzled and flustered expression on her sun-kissed face. It was not like Serena to be in a state of such seriousness unless something happened. Blair felt a twinge of her familiar weariness. She sat down beside her, brushing aside a half-eaten bag of macaroons.

" What's wrong, S?"

Serena turned her penetrating blue eyes toward her best friend. She didn't know how to tell her, how to do it in a way that wouldn't induce more hurt. Blair's own hazel eyes stared right into hers, expectant, worried.

" S, _tell_ me".

" A plane just crashed about an hour ago. Chuck was on it."

Blair felt like someone reached into her heart and silenced it. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Serena put a sympathetic hand on her trembling shoulder.

"Is he...?" Blair couldn't bring herself to ask.

" He is okay, he is just hurt badly", Serena answered with as much reassurance as she could afford. She became aware of one certainty tonight; her best friend was not over her step-brother. The genuine look of undisguised pain in Blair's eyes told her the truth without words. She didn't need to ask. Serena knew that Chuck was a part of Blair; he held her heart.

* * *

He awoke to a pungent smell and the sight of an unknown room around him. Before long, he realized he was in a hospital. There was a bandage on his forehead, a hollow pain in his body. He could hardly remember; he only remembered the ground crumbling beneath his feet and the image of her face. Porcelain skin, hazel eyes. Sinking into an empty abyss. He stretched out his arm to touch her face, but his eyes shut; the world became darkness.

" Are you feeling alright? Does your forehead hurt?" The nurse startled him, bringing him back to reality.

He was in pain, but he couldn't stand a stranger's hands touching him. " No", he lied and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

He opened them again when he heard her retreating steps. The silence of the bare room imbued him with numbness, denial.

* * *

" Are you sure about this, B?" Serena demanded yet another time when their car pulled to a curb. The brunette dismissed her question with a firm nod of the curly –haired head. She _had _to do this. If she didn't, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. When they entered, the halls greeted them with solemn and provoking tranquility. Blair approached the nurse at the main desk.

" Chuck Bass", she stated, almost in a whisper.

The cold inquiring eyes looked back at her. " Are you family?"

"Yes". Her response arrived immediately, instinctively.

" 34B", was the quick and curt direction.

Serena walked with her, squeezing her hand for support. Blair's step was brisk, determined. Somewhere amidst these soulless halls lay the love of all her life. She couldn't escape it in Paris; she couldn't escape it anywhere. It was hers to have.

When 34B appeared before her, Blair paused for a few brief seconds. Collecting herself, she ventured inside. Her heart sank a little when she saw how small he looked , surrounded by tubes and wires. There was blood on his bandaged forehead.

" He is sleeping", Serena commented quietly.

" He is pretending", Blair corrected, recognizing his slightly trembling lids. In a moment, they rose, revealing his tired but glowing eyes. His mouth curved in a familiar side smile.

Blair took his drooping hand wordlessly.

" You came", was all he could utter.

" How could I not?" Blair replied with a question.

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. His deep brown eyes held her hazel intently. Serena slipped back into the hall , not catching their attention. It was _their _moment.

" Blair, I am sorry. I was trying to get away, leave you in peace", Chuck found his voice.

" I know," Blair stated sincerely. She was trying to do the same.

" Sometimes you can't run away", she added meaningfully. Chuck nodded in heartfelt agreement, not ceasing to hold her eyes and her hand in his.

" What are we going to do?" he asked quietly, hesitantly.

" I don't know. But we will not fight our fate anymore. "

Blair ran the fingers of her free hand over his scarred face.

" As long as you are okay, everything else is".

" I am so sorry", he told her again.

She moved her fingers to his full mouth, silencing him.


End file.
